A/N. Alright, so, things are getting sticky. Unlike TLM, this story does not come to an end on the infamous Halloween night. So, hold on tight, this is going to be a bumpy ride.

And WOOHOO! This story has made 1,000 reviews, the 1,000th person being geekychild. Thank you, geekychild, and everyone who has reviewed :D

Ready for some answers to big questions...

...~oOo~...

Chapter Forty-Four: Shades of Black

Ever since Fabian and Gideon's funeral, Hermione's magic had been... wonky. It progressively got worse and worse until Hermione found levitating books to be difficult. And not the mention the sinking, gripping cold that had taken hold of her.

Always so cold. She didn't know why. Even cuddling up against Sirius's radiator of a body helped.

The boys assumed it was the oncoming winter. They even believed her magic problems were because she had some kind of flu. After all, she wasn't eating, she looked like death reincarnate, and she was always bundled in duvets and jumpers.

But Hermione knew none of this was true. Something more sinister was at work. She didn't know if it was poison or a curse, but Hermione wasn't going to let it get in the way of saving James, Lily, and Harry. Nothing would get in the way.

In her great coat she had a collection of potions and a few small smoke grenades. If she had to cloak the Potters by Muggle means, than so be it - fog was plenty to cover one's eyesight.

Hermione couldn't Apparate, so she was walking as quickly as she could through Godric's Hollow. It didn't help that on her journey, she seemed to develop a cough that rattled her brain.

She stumbled with the next cough.

She had to hurry.

The trees surrounding the Potters' house were in sight.

Hermione started to raise her wand, to clear the wards that made the house invisible to her, but a darkness descended on her, seemingly from the trees.

At first she thought she was passing out, but then the shape became clear. The blackness was swirling robes.

Hermione tried to scream, but her mouth was promptly covered as the being attacked.

Hermione flailed and kicked and managed to rip herself away. Once free she broke into a run towards James and Lily. The house became clear as she crossed the right boundary.

Hermione was tackled hard from behind. But just before she hit the ground, she saw the front door of the house open.

"NOOO! JAMES!"

There was the first green flash and Hermione desperately attempted clawing the ground, trying to get away from the huge, dark figure holding her to the earth. The figure was human, by its grunts of effort and groans.

Then a piercing cry came from the second story, followed by another green light that filled the house and came through the window curtains.

Hermione let out a blood-curtling scream before her mouth was again stuffed by her attacker's fist. She choked on it, coughing hard.

The house, her attacker, the ground all become fuzzy. Curiously, she felt something cold drip down her lip and when she raised her hand to it, she found blood. The dab of red on her fingertips was the last thing she saw before blacking out.

...~oOo~...

Seven dwarves went mining in her skull, tapping their little pickaxes and digging deep into Hermione's migraine. She imagined them whistling a jolly tune, making the ringing in her ears.

It felt like the worst hangover of Hermione's life. Only it wasn't a hangover.

Hermione tried blinking. It hurt, but she managed a small flutter of eyelids.

"Hermione..." the voice said.

It sounded oddly familiar. Forcing her eyes open into squints, she saw a blob of lovely black hair and grey eyes.

"Sirius..." Hermione croaked.

"I'm afraid not," the voice said dryly, but it sounded like Sirius nonetheless. "Go back to sleep. You need your rest."

"But, Sirius..."

"Sleep."

And, as if his command was a spell, she obeyed.

...~oOo~...

"How are you feeling?"

"James and Lily..."

Madam Pomfrey sighed sadly. "How are you feeling, Hermione?" she pressed.

"Like I could die," Hermione answered honestly.

"Well, you nearly did."

"How, though?" Hermione asked, leaning back further into the infirmary cot. She was dressed in a light cotton hospital gown. She had no memory of being changed or of being moved to Hogwarts.

"I think that's better for the Headmaster to explain," Madam Pomfrey said, making notes furiously on her parchment.

"For weeks... my magic was... It was like before I went to Hogwarts," Hermione rasped. "I couldn't control it. But weird things would happen, like turning Remus's hair blue, or making the tea kettle explode."

"And then you got sick," Madam Pomfrey said matter-of-factly.

"Precisely. Why was I bleeding... you know, before? I saw blood before I fainted."

"Nosebleed."

"I've never had a nosebleed in my life."

"Well, apparently it's not too late to start," Madam Pomfrey said.

"When can I talk to Dumbledore?"

"He'll be here to talk to you after he returns from the Ministry."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Why is he at the Ministry?"

Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "That's the Headmaster's business."

There was a long pause before Hermione asked, oh so hesitantly, "How long have I been asleep?"

Another pause. "Nine days, dear."

Hermione groaned. "No... no, no!" She started sitting up and pushing off her sheets, even though everything inside of her ached. "I've got to find Sirius! He's going to go after Pettigrew and -"

Madam Pomfrey took on a mournful expression and Hermione was horrified, knowing what was coming next.

"Hermione, I'm sorry to tell you this, but... Mr. Pettigrew is dead. And Mr. Black has been put in Azkaban."

The worst of all feeling roiled in her stomach and she turned away from the mediwitch and to the bin at her bedside, and threw up. Only there was nothing in her stomach, so she spent minutes hacking up stomach acid and potions.

Hermione groaned, shoving back her hair and sitting up again. "Dumbledore," she murmured, absolutely spent. "I have to speak to Dumbledore."

Ignoring Poppy's protests, Hermione shoved herself from the bed and moved as fast as she could towards Dumbledore's office. She was running sloppily, but Poppy was an older woman and couldn't put much effort into going after her.

The stone floors were cold against Hermione's feet, and the castle was always so drafty. By the time she got to the statue hiding the entrance to the Headmaster's office, she was covered in goosebumps and shivering.

"Dumbledore!" she called out desperately, unsure of the password. "I need to speak to you!"

It took a moment, but the statue made way and Hermione hurriedly climbed the stairs and didn't bother to knock before throwing open the door.

"Dumbledore, I..." Hermione froze, staring at the back of the person standing in front of the desk. "Sirius," she breathed.

"I told you before," the figure said, sounding irritated. "I'm not Sirius." And when he turned around, Hermione nearly fainted.

"Regulus," Hermione whispered. "What... are... Aren't you...?"

"Dead?" Regulus finished for her. "So the world would think. But I assure you, I've very much alive."

"But... but... how!" Hermione's eyes were the size of planets as she flicked her gaze between Dumbledore and the dead boy rapidly. "The book said you were dead!"

"Ah, yes, that blasted book," Regulus growled, moving to sit in an arm chair next to the fireplace. "It's become the bane of my existence."

Suddenly feeling very faint, Hermione leaned against the nearest wall and closed her eyes for a moment. "The book was destroyed! You said you'd destroy it and... I need to know what happened," Hermione demanded, her voice rough and desperate. "Please. I need to know now."

"Take a seat, Hermione," Dumbledore said soothingly. "And I'll summon some tea. You look like you could benefit from a cup."

A tray of tea things appeared on the desk, steam rising from the pot. With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, the pot began floating and pouring the cups, adding the perfect amount of tea and sugar to each. The cups floated to each person and Hermione wrapped her thing fingers around the warm ceramic, grateful for the warmth.

"I'm afraid I broke our promise," Dumbledore started by saying.

"You didn't destroy the book?" Hermione said slowly, her mind slowly processing the meaning of such a betrayal.

"I was... extremely curious," Dumbledore said, running his long, wrinkled index finger along the bottom of his lips, deep in thought. "You handed me a map to the future and I'm afraid I couldn't resist. And upon opening it, I realized immediately that there was no erasing what I'd done. I began to consider if perhaps... I was supposed to read it. In order to preserve what was to come."

Slowly shaking her head, a shiver running through her, Hermione said, "You could have changed everything. You could have saved them all. You had the power to do so."

"I'm afraid that's not true," Dumbledore said with a frown. "After you disappeared with the use of the Time Key - before we knew it as a failure - I spent a year researching time travel further." He leaned forward, his glittering blue eyes meeting Hermione's intensely. "When I first told you that you could not change the future, not even I understand just how true that was.

"Tell me, Hermione," Dumbledore went on, sitting back in his chair. "When did you make the conscious decision that you were going to change James and Lily's fates."

Hermione swallowed and answered, "Fabian and Gideon's funeral."

The old man nodded slowly. "And when did you start getting ill?"

Hermione thought back. When exactly did her magic start acting out? When did the cold latch onto her? When did she first feel her sanity fracturing?

"Oh my God," Hermione uttered. "Just after Fabian and Gideon's funeral."

Dumbledore nodded as if he'd already know this. "Precisely. There is a fail-safe in time travel - a trick of the universe, if you may. Any attempts at changing the timeline will result in the traveler's destruction. Not just death, my dear. You will have turned into a cloud of dust, had James and Lily survived."

Blinking, Hermione swallowed and shook her head. "But I must have changed something in this timeline by just being here."

"You were always supposed to be here, Hermione. It was part of your history long before you broke that Time-Turner."

Rubbing at her temples, Hermione tried to put all of this together without bursting into tears. "Okay, okay. But what does Regulus have to do with this? The book said he'd died. Sirius knew his brother to be dead."

"I became perplexed by Regulus's supposed death records. He went missing and was then pronounced dead. The Ministry used the disappearance of his magic as evidence that Regulus was gone. But I wasn't as sure.

"I paid Slughorn a visit, borrowed a gift Regulus gave him from his Slug Club days, and used it to track Regulus. I found him half dead in the Blacks' basement. Walburga left the house shortly after her husband died and Kreacher was trying to nurse Regulus back to health in the safety of the abandoned manor.

"He explained to me what had happened and told him what he'd discovered. Regulus was half in a coma after the cave and Kreacher did his best to destroy the artifact, but did not succeed. And the house, sentient as it is, seems to have hidden it. But that is another story altogether.

"In exchange for his protection from the Dark Lord, Regulus became my eyes and ears for when I am not around. He protects the history written in the book... and protects you."

It all pieced together. Hermione looked across to the room where Regulus sat by the fire, wearing all black.

"You stopped me from saving James and Lily," Hermione said numbly. "And you've been... protecting me. And yet I haven't seen you. Polyjuice? An Invisibility Cloak? Or... perhaps..." Hermione gasped. "You're an Animagus, aren't you?" She stood up as the blood surged through her as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. "You came from the trees when you tackled me - the crows! Always a crow, somewhere! Outside my window I'd hear that ghastly cawing and all along it was you!"

"Very good," Regulus said cynically. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

"You've always been around," Hermione said, shaking her head slowly. "Always watching me."

"I had to," Regulus said. "To make sure you didn't mess anything up and get yourself killed by trying to be the hero."

Hermione felt like she was going to be sick again. To try and calm her nerves, she raised her cup of tea to her mouth and sipped it. But it did nothing. In a moment of blinding fury, she pitched her teacup into the fireplace, watching as it exploded.

There was silence following her outburst. Hermione was shaking violently.

James and Lily were dead. Harry was orphaned. Sirius was in jail. Peter was still at large. Regulus was alive. Remus was all alone. Alice and Frank were likely being tortured to insanity as they spoke.

"What's happening out there?" Hermione asked, her voice hoarse. She began pacing up and down the thick, colorful rug.

"Parties," Dumbledore said. "Trials. Incarcerations. Hunts."

"Hunts?" Hermione asked.

"Rookwood is missing. Sirius was captured already. And now... they're looking for you."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "I don't follow. Why are the Aurors looking for me?"

"During Sirius's arrest, he went mad. Started screaming that they shook find you, that you would have the answers. Just that, over and over, 'Hermione will have the answers'," Dumbledore explained. "They did a little investigating, questioned Remus about you. They believe you to be either an accomplice of Sirius's or dead. And we need to hide you long enough that they pronounce you to be the latter."

Gnawing at her lip as the tears started welling up, Hermione said, "So... what? You stow me away like Regulus? Fake my death and break my wand to eliminate all evidence of my magic?"

"It's to keep you safe," the headmaster told her.

All of the images flitted across her mind of Sirius's wanted posters, the pictures of his original arrest, his years in Azkaban. Crossing her arms, Hermione's fingernails dug into her ribs while she tried to breathe through the overwhelming panic.

"You can't keep me here," Hermione said. "You can't hide me. I have rights."

"No, you don't," Regulus snarled abruptly, standing and spinning towards her. "If you were to be found by the Ministry, they'd pick your brain and find out your secret. You'd be thrown in Azkaban for tampering with time, but not before the Unspeakables rooted through your mind until your thoughts became nothing more than pudding. The only reason we're hiding you is to preserve the future - but the fact of the matter is, this isn't a choice. This is an informal arrest."

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Hermione growled, her hair giving off blue sparks as the rage built inside her. "What does he mean, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore looked very sad. "Regulus is right. The Ministry can't punish you, but we must. You broke my trust, Hermione."

"You broke mine!" Hermione half-screamed.

"You could have killed yourself and so many more by changing the future, Hermione," Dumbledore said. "I can't risk that again. You will be kept here until your other self breaks the Time-Turner and your journey begins again."

"Here... as in Hogwarts?" Hermione said, eyes wide. "But my other self will be coming to this school! You can't just lock me up somewhere - I could be discovered!"

"You'll be kept somewhere that no student will ever venture and be watched closely by one of our own. A recently attained ally," Dumbledore told her.

Recently attained ally. Why did that not set well with Hermione?

...~oOo~...

Challenge: 1. Favorite part and line? 2. Where will Hermione be kept at Hogwarts? Though, I imagine it's pretty obvious. 3. How will Hermione spend her house arrest?

~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~